


“Why you should always silence your phone,” a memoir by Satan

by RyuuSiren7



Series: Crowley is... [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Beelzebub is So Done (Good Omens), Crowley is Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Freddie Mercury tells all, Humor, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Newt and the children are there I just never mention them much, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Other, Tadfield Airbase, or at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuSiren7/pseuds/RyuuSiren7
Summary: Beelzebub and Gabriel have left the airbase in order to summon Adam’s satanic father, and the angel and demon only have mere moments to explain everything to a very confused antichrist. Only, they can’t actually get any explanation done, because Crowley’s phone won’t stop ringing and the demon refuses to answer it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Crowley is... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753909
Comments: 27
Kudos: 333
Collections: Crowley is Satan, Good Omens, Good Omens (Complete works)





	“Why you should always silence your phone,” a memoir by Satan

**Author's Note:**

> Tbfh the main reason I read Satan!Crowley fics in the first place is to see how people handle the airfield scene. Yet, as far as I know, no one has ever capitalized on the sheer crack potential. Which is valid, because it can be handled so emotionally and dramatically when done well. But this is me. So. Crack it is.

_"Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me..."_

-"Bohemian Rhapsody," Freddie Mercury

* * *

“I’ll be telling your father about this, and he will _not_ be happy.”

With that, Prince Beelzebub of Hell and Archangel fucking Gabriel popped out of existence, leaving green and purple ripples in their wake. Which, okay then. Sure, I guess. 

“My father? But he wouldn’t hurt anyone,” said Adam, in the unfortunate position of knowing both the most and least about the whole Armageddon/Armageddoff situation. Honestly, at this point, he was almost expecting a half-giant to fly down on an umbrella and announce that he was a wizard. (But only almost, luckily for reality.)

Aziraphale cleared his throat nervously, blue eyes glancing around nervously as though expecting a giant red flaming devil to explode out of the tarmac of the airfield. “Ah, well, not your earthly father, but your, er, birth one. The Satanic one. As in, actual Satan.”

Before all of that had time to be unpacked, the tones of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” began blaring from Crowley’s pocket. Said demon was pointedly Not Noticing it, ignoring the gaze of every human (and angel) as they slowly turned to him.

After a length of awkward silence that could have earned the demon a commendation, the ringing finally ended.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak.

The ringing started again. 

“My dear, are you going to answer that?”

Crowley hummed and shimmied awkwardly, glancing away from the angel as he pushed up the black sunglasses that had seen better days. “Ermm, nope. Telemarketers, you know.”

“Mmhm.”

Let it be known that Aziraphale had put up with Crowley’s bullshit for 6000 years[i] and knew quite well when the demon was avoiding mentioning something very important. 

The phone stopped ringing, and Freddie Mercury’s voice immediately resumed a mere second later.

“Just answer it!” Thank you for the advice, Book Girl, but Crowley did not want to answer it.

“It’s rude to leave someone hanging, you know.” Yes, well, he’s a demon and not about to take lessons on manners from the - former? - antichrist.

The ringing stopped, and rather than start again, an unimpressed Prince of Hell and somewhat confused fucking Archangel popped back into this plane of existence. Beelzebub, ever so slowly, pressed the “call” button on zir phone.

Freddie Mercury returned, still located in Crowley’s far-too-tight pocket.

“Huh, funny coincidence, that.”

Aziraphale groaned, giving in and holding his head in his hands for just a moment. “Oh _Crowley_ , what have you done?”

“Ngk, me? Done something? Why would I ever do something? Just uh, particularly annoying telemarketers today..”

Everyone’s expressions became remarkably more unimpressed. Save for Shadwell’s, which simply became the type of confused often mistaken for constipation. Beelzebub’s phone went to voicemail at the same time Bohemian Rhapsody faded. 

“Crowley. What izz the meaning of thizz?”

The red-haired demon shrugged, having proceeded to the anxiety level of awkwardly bouncing on his feet and circling his angel protectively. “No idea what you’re talking about, Prince Beelzebub.”

Staring Crowley in his yellow eyes, Prince Beelzebub pressed the little green phone button again. Poor Freddie Mercury began singing once again. 

“Oh for Heaven’s sake! Crowley, what is going on.”

The demon gulped. He knew that there was not a question mark at the end of that sentence, and he also knew that was a _very not good sign._ “Well, I, er, definitely didn’t steal Satan’s phone and-slash-or been lying about my identity to everyone for the past six thousand years?”

Realization was dawning on Adam and Anathema’s faces, along with a sort of horrified disappointment on those of the ethereal-and-occult crew. 

Beelzebub pressed call again, and Crowley snapped.[ii] Fangs elongated and talons sharpened, red and black scales crawled across his face and two fly-away strands of hair started to look rather like bloody horns. And, to seal the deal, the voice that emerged from the devil’s throat was one that not even his poor plants had ever faced.

“ ** _WHAT?_** ” 

Of course, the sheer volume of the shout was greatly aided by the fact that it was doubled from the speaker of a certain black iPhone SE[iii] held by the Lord of the Flies. The Prince of Hell actually flinched back from the phone, though those watching the soap opera unfold before them couldn’t tell whether it was because the shout caused zir ears to ring or as an instinctive reaction to that specific tone of voice.

Nonetheless, Beelzebub’s voice was impressively deadpan as ze spoke, clearly and firmly into the receiver, never once letting their gaze waver from the serpent’s. “What. The. Fuck.”

Crowley shimmied, shrugged, ngked, and ended with jazz hands and a half-hissed “Sssurprise?”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped.[iv][v] “ _You’re_ the Adversary?”

Crowley finger-gunned.

“You. _You._ Crowley-once-Crawley. Serpent of Eden. Are _SATAN_?”

“And you’re the idiot that was fooled by me throwing my voice around and yelling at a mannequin. Your point being?”[vi]

Beelzebub looked rather like someone had just told them Armageddon wasn’t happening after all, which was rather accurate, actually. Aziraphale was trying to make 2+2=4, but kept ending up somewhere in the range of _“what the actual fuck, 6000 years, 6 entire millennia, this whole GODDAMN TIME -”_

Aziraphale’s restraint in keeping this monologue internal should be noted.

"So. Wait. You’re my dad?”

Ah. That sure was a question.

“Ngk, well, seems so. In my defense, I did try to help raise you. Just got a bit, uh, mixed up. Is all.”

“Crowley.”

“Er, yes, angel?”

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t just lose the antichrist - you lost your _actual son_?”

“ _We_! We lost him!”

“ _We?_ I didn’t even hear from you until _after_ he was delivered!”

“Ugh, fine, okay. The _nuns_ cocked it up, not my fault! How hard is it to swap a pair of babies?”

“Who even _had_ him? You’re _asexual_!”

“First of all, sure, tell that to the entire audience, cool.”

“Oh, terribly sorry dear.”

“Whatever, it’s fine, nothing to be ashamed of but still. Secondly, I don’t _fucking know!_ ” I just turned around one day and bam, there’s a baby on the desk, cool Crowley, oh, by the way, it’s your kid Crowley, congrats it’s the fucking ANTICHRIST Crowley!”

“Shouldn’t it be Satan?”

“Have you ever tried to make a Starbucks barista spell Satan right on a cup? No, not worth the hassle. It’s Anthony J. Crowley and you damn well _know it_ , angel, even if Dagon won’t put the fucking paperwork through.”

The audience looked away from the arguing couple as Beelzebub slumped to the ground, cradling zir head in zir hands. “Zzzix thouzzzand yearzz….. Zzzix thooouuuuuzzzaaand yearzzz….. And thizzz iz what I have to work with. _Thizz_ iz who I have to _work for_.”

Gabriel awkwardly patted zem on zir shoulder. Anathema, Madam Tracy, and Newt all made sympathetic noises and conciliations. Shadwell at this point was so lost that he isn’t really worth mentioning, and the children had been distracted by Adam realizing that he could miracle up popcorn to eat while watching this series of events unfold.

“All this time! _All this time!_ ‘My people don’t send strongly worded notes,’ ‘they’ll destroy me if they find out,’ ‘I need insurance’! Was it all just - just lies? Just temptations?”

Ah. They were still arguing.

“Of course not! No, angel, never. The insurance worked very well, for the record, so… eugh… thank you. Oh, also, Beezlebub, we’ll need to replace Ligur and Hastur immediately -”

“ _What the fu-”_

“But no, never. I _had_ to keep up the act, Aziraphale. Do you think Hell would be fine with the idea of me just fucking traipsing around Earth? Do you think I wanted to be there for a second longer than I had to? This was just… the easiest path. And what was I supposed to say, huh? 

‘Hey Aziraphale, I know we’ve known each other for a while now, but surprise! My name’s not fucking Crowley, it’s Satan! You know, big red, horns, sits on the throne of Hell and rules over eternal damnation?” I was supposed to say that, to you, after who _knows_ how many millennia, while you were still being ‘You go too fast for me, Crowley’, ‘Absolutely not, Crowley,’ ‘There’s no _our side_ , Crowley,’ ‘I don’t even fUCKING LIKE YOU, CROWLEY’ -!”

The Prince of Hell nodded to zirself, stood up, and turned to face zir angelic counterpart. “I’m done here. I’m not dealing with zzzis right now. Either try and smite me and declare war, or I’m going back to Hell and telling the armiezzz to zzztand down.”

Now, one might think that Gabriel would immediately, shrug, say “Sure,” and blast Beelzebub to kingdom come. But, first of all, it’s been a very long, very weird, and _very_ emotionally turbulent day. Secondly, the thought of permanently ending the Lord of Flies makes a peculiar and unpleasant feeling clench in his gut. Perhaps his corporation is malfunctioning? In which case, of course, it would be quite unwise to attack someone so powerful.

“Ah, well, thanks for the offer, but I’m actually feeling a little under the weather. I’d better be getting back to Heaven, honestly. Armies to order down, and all that. Raincheck for Tuesday?”

Beelzebub nodded, and the two popped back out like particularly iridescent soap bubbles. Again.

Now that the two representatives were gone, Adam turned back to the arguing couple and cleared his throat to interrupt. Both angel and demon remembered they had an audience at that, and fell silent with a final, impressively hissed “This conversation isn’t over, Crowley,” from Aziraphale.

“Um, you don’t seem too bad, but you’re not really… my dad. My dad’s the one who’s been there for me for eleven years, and makes me do the dishes, and take Dog out for walks, and tries to help me with my math homework even though he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, either.” And with that, the universe shifts, and settles.

“I’d, uh, like to maybe get to know you more, though? When everything calms down, that is.”

“Sure, kid. We’ll be in touch. And, uh, good job, on the whole, stopping Armageddon thing. You’re a good kid, Adam.”

The universe shifted a _little_ bit more and settled for good this time.[vii]

With that, the motley crew of witchfinders, witches, ex-antichrists, badass children, and angel-demon duo said their awkward farewells, exchanged phone numbers, and dispersed. A very confused Arthur Young found himself giving the children rides home with a tartan[viii] bike rack on the back of his car while an enthusiastic Anathema had commandeered an army vehicle that looked less like a jeep and more like a tank for the others.

Aziraphale and Crowley decided just to wait for the bus. They had a conversation to finish, after all. And it would be a very long conversation indeed, filled with explanations and apologies from both ends, interruptions for dinners at the Ritz and picnic lunches in the park, and not to mention several attempts at punishment from Heaven and Hell. (All of those, however, would be thwarted quite succinctly by Aziraphale’s clever mind and customer service attitude, and/or by Crowley losing his shit and going full Satan on the interlopers.)

In the end, the conversation seemed to continue for eternity and started to find itself less full of apologies and more full of “I love you”s and fondly spoken “bastard”s. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley could find it in themselves to really mind. They had been together for quite more than seven days so far, and would be together for many more.[ix]

* * *

[i] Just as long as Crowley had put up with Aziraphale’s bullshit, in fact.

[ii] Bohemian Rhapsody did not have particularly good connotations for Crowley in recent years (see: the past decade) since it was the main song his Bentley had played on repeat during the whole delivering the antichrist thing. That was, in fact, why he had made it the ringtone specific to the Prince of Hell. As such, hearing it on repeat was not doing Crowley’s anxiety nor temper any good.

[iii] As a demon, having the most outrageous and extravagant and needlessly overpriced phone was a requirement. Or well, as a top-level demon with some amount of common sense and technological awareness. The rest had Nokias.

[iv] Unfortunately, those gathered - especially Aziraphale and Beelzebub - were too busy fighting shock of their own to fully appreciate the moment. Luckily, antichrists can say fuck reality I do what I want, and so everyone got a framed photo of the moment.[v]

[v] Needless to say, Gabriel had not left a good impression on Adam.

[vi] See: deleted bookshop opening scene in the TV show

[vii] This would in no way have long term consequences. Nope. None at all.

[viii] Aziraphale had contemplated using a different option than Heaven’s Tartan, but, well, this was for Crowley’s son, so the tartan stayed.

[ix] Dagon handled the marriage certificate and finally put through the forms for Crowley’s name change. Michael officiated, Warlock and Adam played duo ring bearer, Anathema was Crowley’s best man and Madame Tracy was Aziraphale’s, and Gabriel and Beelzebub later used it as a precedent for themselves to get married. But these are different stories for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> ...Tada? Comment and Kudos are greatly appreciated. <3


End file.
